


When the Show's Over

by FandomRainbow



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: (also brief), (but I promise it’s short), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguments, Beta? What’s a beta? Lol, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Introspection, M/M, Nightmares, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Oma Kokichi-centric, Ouma not Oma, Panic Attacks, Saihara Shuichi-centric, Sleep Deprivation, Tired Oma Kokichi, Tired Saihara Shuichi, everyone's tired tbh, takes place at the end of chapter 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomRainbow/pseuds/FandomRainbow
Summary: "You like games right, Ouma?" A sugary-sweet smile coated his soft lips, voice mellow like liquid honey. Tiny sparks flickered brilliantly in Shuichi's sharpened gaze, but in truth, they didn’t reflect a fraction of his determination. "If so, then please indulge me for a little while in this one."~~~~~~~~~~~Or: After Gonta's trial, Kokichi tries his best to keep his head screwed on straight meanwhile Shuichi does some thinking, and happens upon a shocking revelation.Updates: Whenever I have time (min once a week, max every two weeks)
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Oma Kokichi, Harukawa Maki & Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 38
Kudos: 163
Collections: Quality Fics





	1. Finale

**Author's Note:**

> He then retreated back for his grand finale, lowering his head, and slipping into a familiar smirk –a perfectly practiced smirk that was enough to make Shuichi flinch. And raising his left hand for a wicked toast, Kokichi slipped on his most sickening mask yet, eyes buggy as a toothy grin stretched from ear to ear, completing his haunting sneer. "The one who will win this game...is me."

"Pathetic?" Shuichi scoffed, utterly exhausted and at the end of his rope. Ouma's little pranks were one thing, but  _ this _ ... His whole scheme involving Gonta, his cheap provocations all throughout the trial, punching Kaito....Today he'd crossed the line. "Look at yourself, Kokichi."

"...What?" Ouma, who up until now maintained a carefree expression, suddenly stopped laughing. His eyes widened as he absorbed the detective's words like a bitter medicine, necessary, but barely palatable. Studying his face, he couldn’t help but notice a strange, unpleasant feeling begin to take root in his chest.  _ Why does it have to be Shuichi? _

From everyone else, he'd expected this. He’d _worked_ for this. But for these words to come out of Shuichi, of all people... The way he glared at him, his gray-yellow eyes still a little red from crying...it was enough to make the leader's resolve falter.

"Kaito always has us by his side, see?" Shuichi continued in an even voice, gesturing to the Ultimate Astronaut as everyone helped him to his feet. Against his better judgment, Kokichi's eyes flitted to the scene. 

And there Kaito was, surrounded by love and affection, everyone's eyes and voices dripping with worry as they frantically checked his wounds. Even the lazy little mage girl was taking action for once.

Ha, what a _laugh_.

But the astronaut trainee was waving them away all the same, sporting a forced smile for their benefit. Overwhelmed by the attention, but still grateful for their concern.

"..."

Kokichi inhaled sharply, his lips tightening into a thin line.

"But no one wants to be around  _ you _ ." The detective's voice, bold and frigid, commanded his attention back, placing special emphasis on the final word. Standing there frozen, Kokichi wondered if maybe Himiko's magic was real after all. Because _surely_ , it wasn’t the timid Saihara's gaze that kept his feet firmly planted in the ground.

"..." Shuichi closed his eyes for a second and sighed, trying to calm the seething anger that boiled just beneath the surface of his pale skin. _Calm_ the torrential storm on the verge of exploding from within... But when he opened them back up to see Kokichi stare at him with innocent eyes, a pointed index finger grazing his left cheek, the detective snapped.

"You’re alone, Kokichi. And you _always_ will be."

As if on cue, the petite boy smiled back at him, interlocking his fingers behind his head and tilting his face angelically. "Ah-haha! You’re talking about friends?" He laughed, without missing a beat, hoping desperately that the noise would drown out the overwhelming sound of his pounding heart. "Friends don’t make this game more entert–" 

Kokichi paused, watching for the detective's reaction only to realize that Shuichi would no longer give him the satisfaction.

"..."

After this, Shuichi would probably never talk to him _again_...

All at once, his beating heart stilled. Kokichi dropped his playful demeanor, slumping his small shoulders and slipping into a more natural, yet all the same unreadable expression. "Geez," He began, his voice completely devoid of all its initial pep, "boooring. I'm no longer interested." 

Staring blankly at the detective, Kokichi wondered what he ever saw in him. What was it that charmed him so when no one and nothing else could?

Was it because Shuichi always put up with his antics? Because unlike the others, Shuichi never treated him like just another goddamn nuisance that wouldn’t go away? Or was it simpler than that? Like the cute way he puffed out his chest when he felt particularly confident? Or the gentle clumsiness with which he bandaged his wound following the Knife Game incident? 

No, it was something _much_ simpler than any of those things. Because even now, towards Shuichi, he was still...

The leader sighed. "I don’t care anymore..." 

There were many words Kokichi could think of to describe the unpleasant feeling that blossomed within his constricting rib cage. 

_ Emptiness, heartbreak, dejection ...  _

But none of those seemed to fit quite right. 

**_ Betrayal _ ** .

He almost laughed at the absurdity of his mind's answer.  _ Who really betrayed who, though? _

Kokichi felt the corners of his lips begin to twitch upward just thinking about it. 

_ If I asked Saihara now, I wonder how he’d respond... _

Taking a step closer to the taller boy, Kokichi gathered up all his remaining energy, and whispered menacingly in Saihara's ear, "But I will tell you this..."

He then retreated back for his grand finale, lowering his head, and slipping into a familiar smirk –a perfectly practiced smirk that was enough to make Shuichi flinch. And raising his left hand for a wicked toast, Kokichi slipped on his most sickening mask yet, eyes buggy as a toothy grin stretched from ear to ear, completing his haunting sneer. "The one who will win this game...is me."

And with that, Kokichi was gone, leaving Shuichi to wonder how such a small body could harbor so much malice and ill-intent.  _ What the hell is wrong with him? _

"..." Shuichi shook his head, the start of a migraine hammering softly at the back of his skull. He was too tired to think about Kokichi and his lies and the all pure, unbridled insanity that shined in his eyes. 

And then there was the astronaut.  _ Right, Kaito! _

Momentarily forgetting his anger for Kokichi, the detective rushed to his best friend's side and knelt down to check for injuries. "Kaito, are you okay?" 

Some blood noticeably peaked out the Ultimate Astronaut's mouth, sending a flurry of panic through Shuichi's body.  _ Did Kokichi really punch him THAT hard?  _ From this angle, he couldn’t really–

Kaito groaned, snapping the detective out of his inner thoughts. Sweat grazed and dripped down his lightly raised brow, licking gently at his sickly-white face. 

He didn’t face his sidekick. 

"Hey, Kaito...?" Shuichi tried again, waving a hand before his best friend's eyes while his own were swimming with worry. He didn’t hear Maki shuffle over to them. At least, not until she'd placed a warm hand on his shoulder and gently nudged him aside. Her black skirt fluttered as she crouched down to get a better look at the Luminary of the Stars' paling face and reached out to cup his cheek.

"I-I'm okay..." Kaito sputtered, pushing her hand away. "It's fine..."

But that was a lie. The Hero _wasn't_ fine , and Shuichi and Maki knew it. Skipping training, always holing himself up in his dorm....  _ I’m an idiot for not noticing sooner.  _

"C-C'mon, I'll help you back to your dorm," Shuichi offered his shoulder. He’d already forgotten about their little spat during the trial and just wanted to _help_ , but–

"I can walk on my own." Kaito affirmed, not meeting his eyes. "I don’t need your help...Shuichi."

A cold sensation ran through the detective's body.  _ Why...? Why was Kaito refusing his help? Refusing to even look him in the eyes?  Their fight wasn’t *that* big a deal.. . _ _was it?_

Shuichi found himself wanting to reach out, to try again, but without the astronaut's usual encouragement, hesitated.

Even Maki's expression darkened upon observing the two, and as Kaito attempted to make good on his word and stumble back to the dorms on his own, she quietly promised Shuichi she’d look after him.

And Shuichi was grateful, sure, but even more than that, he....  _ he’d wanted to be the one to say that. _

It was selfish and stupid, but it was the  _ truth _ . 

And suddenly, despite there still being three other people in the room, Shuichi felt very, very alone.


	2. A Peek Behind the Curtain (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I– What're you scheming Kokichi?" Shuichi sputtered, trying his best to stay focused despite his racing mind. He’d managed to solve a lot of mysteries tonight, but still couldn’t seem to figure out the enigma that was Kokichi Ouma.

_ You’re alone, Kokichi. And you always will be._

Kokichi gritted his teeth as the elevator whirred to life and began its ascent. He could still vaguely hear the voices of his classmates murmuring quietly below, probably fawning all over that pathetic, bullshitting phony. Even though he was willing to let them all die in order to uphold his own twisted sense of righteousness, the hero was still the hero, huh? 

_Idiots_.

The leader scoffed, rolling his eyes as a new wave of adrenaline rushed through his veins.

_Friendship sure is magic, isn't it?_

**Pathetic**.

No matter how many times they'd been betrayed, the echo chamber of idiots still seemed intent on clinging to pretty words like ' _trust_ ' and ' _belief_ '' as though such nonsense would resolve their current situation. They were all content to just idle and sing kumbaya with the hope that everything would somehow work itself out.

And no matter how many times Kokichi had tried to open their eyes, _tried_ to prove that their line of thinking was fundamentally flawed, they refused to confront the ugly truth of the matter –the truth that they were contestants in a _killing game,_ **not** some shitty reality dating show. It was a game of _deceit_ and _suspicion_ , meant to bring out the worst in them and prove that _everyone_ has a breaking point. _Even the seemingly kindest person in the world would kill if given enough incentive, just look at Gon–_

Kokichi paused, reconsidering as the low buzzing of hundreds of tiny hornets thrummed through his skull louder than a rock concert. 

– _Akamatsu. Just LOOK at Akamatsu._

She... _whatever._

It wasn't like it mattered anyway, not when nine people were dead and nobody had learned a thing. 

"..." The leader sighed, trying to calm the restless energy stirring inside of him. What he would give to be as delusional as the rest of them, happily frolicking and playing friends instead of working on increasingly convoluted plans to save all their useless, ungrateful asses. Life really _was_ ridiculously unfair. 

The only other person who showed signs of possessing any kind of brains in the group was Saihara. But today, he too had proved himself to be a lost cause. First, by rejecting his offer to cooperate in ending this cruel game and then–

_–You’re alone, Kokichi. And you always will be. _

"Shit." The leader squeaked, biting just a _tad_ too hard into the soft tissue of his already thoroughly chewed thumb. He watched as blood pooled and bloomed from the tiny puncture, snaking down his finger to his wrist and staining the white cuff of his uniform in the vile substance's vibrant color. Thick, and warm and disgustingly sticky.

The sight of it was repulsive, an unwelcome reminder that the next body discovery announcement was always just beyond the next corner. That _that_ was simply just how things went down in a game like this. Actually, as a matter of fact, the only blood that _had_ been shed to date without much consequence was his own. It was exceedingly hilarious, really. The floorboard incident, the way Saihara had bandaged his stupid little finger –all he could do was laugh.

Back then, the detective really _was_ an interesting individual...

_And he still is,_ Kokichi's mind mocked, sparing no consideration or mercy for the night. _*You're* the one who's gotten boring._

A sudden chill ran up the leader’s spine, shaking him back to reality. _Reality_ , where his blood continued inconsequentially to seep into white fabric.

**Reality** , where soon enough, it’d soak his entire uniform. _What would Saihara say then? Hmm?_

The thought made his heart race. Or maybe, that was still just a result of the adrenaline rush. But either way–

_ I really hate this stupid elevator. _

The doors opened not a moment later and  _finally_ , Kokichi felt like he could breathe again. Even if it _was_ all fake, borrowed air. 

Stumbling out of the elevator, he almost face-planted onto the pavement below, suddenly feeling the weight of all those sleepless nights come back to haunt him. But luckily, the leader was able to catch himself before doing any more damage to his body tonight, and, sighing a breath of relief, proceeded to quickly straighten up. _Safe_. 

Still, that didn't stop his tired body from complaining and begging fervently for sleep, didn't stop it from trembling lightly in meek protest. But he could deal with that later. He still had things to do tonight; items to retrieve, and updates to add to both his whiteboard and notebook of evil plans. A couple of stiff shoulders and elongating eye bags were the _least_ of his concerns. For now-

_ I can’t afford to waste any more time. I’m so close. _

They were already nine people down, only seven remaining. And at the rate things were going, they’d be down to only five within the next four days...

He _needed_ to finish prepping before that.

And so, willing his body to still, Kokichi raised his head and flashed a Cheshire grin for the adoring audience, who knew _nothing_ about what was to come. 

_ It’s time to end this. _

Overflowing determination burned in the leader's violet eyes as he  forced one foot in front of the other all the way down the Ultimate Inventor's Lab.

_Focus_. _Persist. Overcome._

Kokichi repeated the words like a mantra as the cool night air brushed up against his scorching skin. _**Focus** on your objective. **Persist** when times are tough. And **overcome** any obstacle in your path. Things will work out this time. They **have** to._

All the blood and tears shed, all the sacrifices made –it couldn’t all be for nothing. No, he wouldn’t _allow_ it to become meaningless. He’d broken his moral code to get this far, betraying his own family and feelings all for this **one** opportunity. This once in a lifetime chance. 

_I won't waste it._

Steeling himself, the leader pushed past the Research Lab's doors in a grand motion and immediately got to searching. He needed to hurry and retrieve the items as soon as possible lest anyone chance a glance in his direction and grow curious by the light. 

_ I just hope that dumb cumslut actually *finished* everything I asked her for. _

Pushing forward, Kokichi made his way over to the rightmost table, which Iruma had proclaimed -very haughtily- to be her desk on the day he’d first gone to her with his request. And, sure enough, there, scattered messily amongst all kinds of other notes and design plans, were his blueprints,  noting all the adjustments and changes she’d made to the original designs in a surprisingly succinct amount of detail. 

But of course, the Ultimate Inventor, or rather, _Ultimate Horny Scatterbrain_ , only left *that* in plain sight. So now, still running on limited time and negative sleep, Kokichi had the additional pleasure of going on a late-night scavenger hunt. Just _great_.

Letting out a much-needed sigh, the leader closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and focused. _Now, where did you hide everything?_

Carefully scanning the room, he promptly located an average-sized square-shaped box lurking suspiciously in the back-left corner of the lab. Upon closer inspection, several tools and strange objects protruded from the holes of the crate, signaling to the leader that it might _actually_ be worth investigating.  And so, after taking swift strides over to it, he peered down and began assessing its contents from a bird's eye view.

_Hmm? What *do* we have here?_ He questioned, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right, the shine of something round and very... _pink_ catching his eye. _Bingo_. 

Rummaging through the various parts and tools Iruma had tossed together, Kokichi managed to fish out several palm-sized objects, each bearing the famed whore's signature rat stamp.

_Electrobombs,_ Kokichi's mind supplied as he plucked one from his pile and spun it playfully between his fingers. _Five, by the looks of it._

" _Good_." The leader couldn't help but smile at the ugly little mouse. While he'd only requested she make him three, getting five bombs meant he had room to perform a test run.

Not that he really doubted the she-pig's talent, but she _had_ just recently tried to kill him. Who was to say she hadn’t set up another trap before kicking the bucket?

_Then again, this *is* Miu we're talking about._ The leader shrugged, smugly shaking his head from side to side. While he'd be the first to admit that she was good at making shit and moaning during Keeboy's maintenance, Iruma wasn't the most, well, _bright_ individual when it came to scheming. Honestly, he probably had nothing to worry about. 

Still, Kokichi pocketed one of the bombs anyway. (Juuust in case, y'know?) 

He then tucked the other four away safely, and proceeded to stand up, mentally crossing off the item from his list. _One down, three to go._

Thankfully, his next discovery was made not long after the previous; in a rather sketchy storage closet at the back-right end of the Ultimate Inventor's lab, lay six devices in the shape of large mallets –devices that Kokichi had officially dubbed the _electrohammers_. And while they were quite similar to the electro _bombs_ in that they were also meant to disturb electronic signals, Kokichi had a slightly _different_ use for them in mind... _Nee-heehee._

Closing the door on the pinkish blue hammers, he crossed the second item off of his imaginary list. _Two down, two to go!_

He was making good progress so far, and though the room was starting to sway, Kokichi persisted. 

_Two minutes..._

_Five minutes..._

_Ten minutes..._

And still no remote or Bugvac in sight.

"Hey bitchlet, where did you..." 

And then he saw _it_. Wedged between what could only be described as two of Miu's more  _self -indulgent_ inventions, was a remote control the size of an old cassette tape, meant to be used on the five receivers she'd supplied to him just days prior.

"Aw, yuck! Damn slut!" Kokichi cringed, gingerly pulling the small device out of its... _unenviable_ position with his right index finger and thumb. Shuddering, he then proceeded to bring it up to his eye for inspection, all the while simultaneously cursing his rotten luck. "Ugh, you better not be giving me an STD from beyond the grave." 

...At a quick glance, the remote didn’t _seem_ to be covered in any odd residual substances, but Kokichi concluded it’d still be best to wash his hands once he returned to his dorm anyways.

_Ergh!_ The leader shivered, shoving the device into his free pocket. _That’s three down –four, if you include a part of my sanity._ _All that’s left is... _

"The Bugvac!" He cried aloud, spotting the oddly shaped invention amongst an array of half-filled test tubes and flasks on the workbench across from him. _Finally. Now I can–_

But with his next step forward, a sudden wave of dizziness rushed over the leader. 

_Shi–_

And, the next thing he knew, his body was hitting the floor with a soft _thud_.

"Argh, shit!" Kokichi groaned, wincing and pushing himself up while every muscle in his tiny body scream in protest. "Hold on for just a bit longer, will you!?" 

The _last_ thing he needed was to collapse now, when he was mere moments away from finishing up and high-tailing it back to his dorm. 

_You're the Ultimate Supreme Leader, dammit! Quit letting something so *pathetic* as a lack of sleep defeat you!_

"Haha..." A growing smirk took over his lips as he shifted and grabbed at the nearest counter to help heave himself up. "Hahaha..."

_ Ahahahahaha!  _

Finally back on his feet, the leader couldn't help but let out a triumphant laugh. "Haha, didn't you know that overcoming trivial crap like this is what it _means_ to be a leader, Mr. Detective?"  Wiping the sweat from his brow, he located his final target of the night and braced himself. " _That_ right there, is the difference between us."

Pushing off the countertop, Kokichi staggered over to claim his last prize, and, with all the confidence in the world, sneered, "gotcha!"

But, (and _man_ , why did there _always_ have to be a but???) he realized a little too late that the device he was handling had _yet_ to be completed. And as several screws hit the floor with a cacophony of familiar metallic _clinks_ , Kokichi felt his very soul depart from his body. 

"An unfinished prototype, huh..." He mouthed half-heartedly and let out a deep sigh. _This night just keeps getting better and better._

After painstakingly collecting the run-away screws, the leader rose to his tired feet once more and pulled out the blueprint for the Bugvac. Laying it on a free area of the table, Kokichi carefully read over the inventor's added notes and hummed quietly to himself. "Well, I think I can at least finish it on my own..." 

He turned his head towards the device to assess it, and watched as it soon became two, then _three_ , then _four_ and shook his head. "Tomorrow." He could do that _tomorrow._

Steadying himself on the workbench, he waited for the episode of dizziness to pass, then at last, _at long last,_ he dragged his exhausted body back to the dormitories. 

However, pushing the door open, he was surprised to see Saihara, of all people, lingering outside his room and staring aimlessly at the wall. It was such a rare sight that for a moment, the leader forgot himself and without meaning to, accidentally let a soft, "ah," slip.

Saihara then blinked at him for a good second, his tired honey eyes completely blank, and devoid of any sort of recognition. After another few seconds, the detective then let out his own, "ah," _finally_ registering Ouma's presence in the entryway. Almost instantaneously, his mood worsened, the tiny leader's deranged laughter still beating like a drum at the back of his skull even hours past the trial's conclusion. _Man_...why did it have to be  _Ouma_ of all people to catch him like this? Shuichi wondered, the dull headache he’d been trying to shake off for the past hour or so now starting to pound anew. 

The universe must _surely_ be plotting against him.

_Come to think of it actually,_ Shuichi pondered, subconsciously planting a hand to his chin, _I thought he'd come back here right after the trial but...?_ Tilting his head, he observed that the leader was still in uniform. _Strange_. "You're back....late."

_Suspicious_. If his face didn’t already give it away, his tone of voice certainly _did_.

Kokichi just rolled his eyes, summoning a last, non-existent burst of energy along with his signature smirk. "Why," he teased, stepping closer, "did you miss me?"

But as expected, Shuichi didn’t take the bait and simply continued staring at the boy quizzically. And normally, the leader would _revel_ in such undivided attention from his beloved, but right now, the detective's silent stare was anything but kind.

Kokichi sighed. "If your not going to answer me, then I’ll be heading to my secret lair now."  _Yikes_.  The leader couldn’t help but recoil internally at his throat's betrayal.  That sounded deader than... _Whatever. Why do I even care?_

Brushing past Saihara, he attempted to make a beeline for his room, only to feel himself getting tugged back before even taking three steps. "Yes..?" The leader cocked his head, hoping that the alarm bells going off didn't show on his face.  _God_ , he was trying  so hard to keep up the playful act, but even  _he_ had limits.

"I– What're you scheming Kokichi?" Shuichi sputtered, trying his best to stay focused despite his racing mind. He’d managed to solve a lot of mysteries tonight, but still couldn’t quite seem to figure out the enigma that was Kokichi Ouma. 

"Nee-heehee, are you suuure you wanna know, Saihara?" The enigma grinned, the same creepy, sadistic smile stretching across his face as always. He then leaned in close,  _too close_ ,  for Shuichi's liking anyway, and whispered, "I’ll have to kill you right after."

The statement sent a shiver down the detective's spine, Ouma's warm breath on his neck a more potent freezing device than fresh ice from the arctic. 

It took Shuichi a moment to regain his composure. But, when he did, all he could manage to heave was a defeated sigh. "I don’t know what else I was expecting." The detective muttered, shaking his head in exasperation and slamming the door to his room behind him. 

Kokichi couldn’t tell if he was more disappointed or frustrated after that exchange, but hey, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway, right? Just the way Saihara had shifted uncomfortably when he’d first noticed him standing there was enough for Kokichi to confirm he’d meant _every_ word of their earlier exchange.

_You’re alone, Kokichi. And you always will be._

"So what?" Kokichi grumbled quietly, still standing outside of Saihara's dorm.  _Who the hell **cares** what Shuichi thinks anyway?_

He stomped up the stairs, feeling his heart pound in his ears.  _Maybe I prefer to be alone. Did you ever think about *THAT* Mr. Detective??_

Jamming his key into the door, the leader scowled. _Why_ did it irritate him so much? This was all part of the plan! It wasn’t like he’d _excluded_ Saihara from the list of people meant to hate him, so...why did it bother him so much that he did? 

Closing and locking the door behind him, Kokichi leaned back and let out a long breath, allowing his legs to turn to jelly. He sank down against the cool, metallic door and stared up blankly at the ceiling, the day's events washing over him like a tsunami. 

He was  so _tired_. Of all of it. The constant smell of death behind every corner, the awful trials that followed...  The state of the outside world. 

"Heh, I wonder what kind of face Saihara’ll make when he sees it?" Kokichi chuckled to himself.  _If he doesn’t hate me with all his heart now, that’ll definitely do it._

The leader could just imagine it –the shock and horror on the detective's face as he realized that all that awaited them on the outside was ruin. And, when he did, the leader would follow his cue and pop out to laugh at him, laugh at the notion that Saihara –or any of them for that matter, expected anything more. Then, he’d put on his greatest performance yet, taking the stage as the cruel and evil mastermind who’d made them dance like puppets in the palm of his hand.

_Haha..._

It was an ambitious lie –Kokichi would be the first to admit it, but after all the work he’d put in to make it believable, he couldn’t back out now. He was going to _**end**_ this killing game –by _any_ means necessary, once and for all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! First and foremost, I'd like to apologize for the delay. I really had planned to get this out Monday, but was having a few problems while editing and formatting the chapter for AO3 (maybe because I'm uploading from a tablet?) aaaand now it's Friday :| 
> 
> Anyways, I was also just *really* unhappy with how this chapter turned out in general. I *knew* I could do better and really did NOT wasn’t to release something I was dissatisfied with, so, I decided to take a bit of extra time to fix it into something I could be proud of. And well, here we are! A lot of time and effort went into this; as in, it was originally ~1700 words but after a few nights of rigorous editing, is now over 3000! More than double the length of Chapter 1!! 
> 
> All I hope is that it was worth the wait! And, even if not, I hope it was enjoyable at the very least ^^
> 
> If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Oh! And also, thanks for all the kudos and comments on the first chapter! They are all very much appreciated <3 
> 
> And to everyone who got the lil references to other media I sprinkled throughout this chapter, ily ;)
> 
> If you ever want to chat, I’m most active on Instagram (@sparklingfandomrainbow) and twitter (@fandomrainbow)!
> 
> Until we meet again next week (on Monday this time, I promise) ^^


	3. A Peek Behind the Curtain (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And although it'd be bold of Shuichi to claim he ever once fully understood the leader, he thought that by now, he’d at least come to understand him a little.

Shuichi flopped down face-first on the bed and groaned.  _What a night._

He hadn’t even gone to training this evening (for _obvious_ reasons), yet every muscle in his body pulsed, and screamed as though he’d done double the reps . In a way, he _had_ , in fact, worked much harder than usual tonight; doing his best to remain calm while combatting the expectant states of his classmates in a scramble to reach an unforgiving truth. 

A _miserable_ truth that, yet again, nobody wanted. 

Least of all, _himself_.

All that work...and _this_ was the result? 

…

Maybe Kaito was right after all. Maybe they _should’ve_ just quit and voted incorrectly on purpose back there. Or better yet, refused to have voted at all. At least then, they could have had some closure, could've died with some peace of mind knowing that they had refused to give in to the Mastermind's game any longer. They could've lived out their final moments free, and happy, knowing that even if it wasn't the _ideal_ solution, they'd won.

But now...now it was much too _late_ for any of that. Like he'd already done three times prior, Shuichi went and declared his verdict, and like a shepherd, herded everyone to the same, awful conclusion. Well...

Everyone, except for **one** person.

… 

_How did things turn out like this?_

Shuichi wondered, closing his eyes with the half-baked hope that it’d soften his migraine. _Too_ many things had happened...had _fallen apart_ tonight. And more than anything right now, Shuichi wished that he could turn back the clock. Go back to the beginning and warn his past self of everything to come, of _**everything** _he’d be damned to do. 

Maybe _then_ , he’d have an easier time accepting things as they were.

_…_

_No._ Shuichi's mind protested, rejecting the mere thought. _That's wrong. I...I don’t think I’d **ever** accept this. _

Opening his eyes, the detective knew it was true. If he knew back then what he knew now...there’s _no way_ he’d just stand by idly, _no way_ he'd just let fate run its course as it pleased. 

No, he’d do _anything._ Anything and _everything_ he could to change their destiny.

No matter **what** it took.

Momentarily unburying his face from the sheets, Shuichi shot a glance at the clock.

_11:47 p.m._

Looked like for now at least, he was out of luck.

Sighing, the detective turned over on his side and allowed his mind to fade to blank. He didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to _risk_ unearthing yet another ugly truth.

And even though it made him happy that his friends _trusted_ his judgements, _believed_ in the conclusions he’d reached, the truth was...

Shuichi wished he _wasn’t_ the Ultimate Detective.

Suspecting others and exposing their crimes...

Sending more and more friends to their death with a few words and the unceremonious push of a button...

It was _scary_ how much influence that measly title gave him. And even though he’d been getting by alright so far, there was always the possibility of screwing up the next time and killing them all.

_No pressure_ , they’d say while nonchalantly leaving their precious lives in his hands. _We trust you. You're the Ultimate Detective, after all._

…

Shuichi could feel the pain in his head ebbing and flowing, much like the waves had that time he and his uncle drove out to sea on an infidelity case. Rhythmically, it came and went, dredging up all the old insecurities he kept buried deep inside, and depositing them in his conscious mind where he no longer could ignore them.

_What if you get it wrong next time? What if **your** words doom them all?_

_What if you can’t **find** the truth? Or, what if you somehow run out of time before you can say it?_

_…_ _What if you find the truth, but that truth is best left **unspoken**?_

_Hey...what then?_

There were people who were _counting_ on him, people who _relied_ on his words. So, if and when the next time comes, he _needs_ to make the right decision. 

But...what if he _doesn’t_?

What if he messes up _big time_ and screws them all?

Would they blame him?

Would they go out with scorn in their hearts and label him as their murderer?

Would they even have the _decency_ to look him in the eye one last time?

Would _he_ them?

Shuichi didn’t know. He _couldn't_ know - _wouldn’t_ know, until that time was upon them.

Sitting up in his bed, he once again looked over at the clock.

_1:47 a.m._

And he had yet to sleep a wink.

_I wonder how everyone else is doing..._

In particular, Shuichi pictured the astronaut, his face pale and worn, fresh blood coating his chapped lips as he trembled meekly on the trial ground floor. He’d claimed that he was fine, that it was just a cold, but Shuichi _knew_ that the only person he was really fooling was the naïve Keebo. And perhaps, himself. 

Kaito, he...he wasn’t okay. He was most probably _dying_ , judging by the amount of blood he spat up back there.

It was unlikely that he’d make it out of this alive.

_I don’t need your help...Shuichi._

"..." Clenching a fistful of sheets, Shuichi couldn’t help but wonder if those were the last words he'd ever hear his friend speak. His cold expression, the last he'd ever make for him. 

_Since you're my sidekick, there's nothing to worry about._

…It was like Kaede all over again. Befriending him, then encouraging him, only to abandon him at the very end. Shuichi could already hear it, the sound of Monokuma's gleeful voice as he announced the discovery of a fresh corpse in the dormitories... 

It was enough to make the detective's blood run cold.

_1:59 a.m._

The clock marched on.

_Has it really been over ten minutes?_

_Has it really been **only** ten minutes?_

In Shuichi's head, it had felt like five. And yet, each of those five had dragged on for their own separate eternities.

It was much like the Killing Game itself, actually. They'd only been at it for two weeks and yet, it felt like several months had already passed them by. 

The physical and emotional tolls were just that _bad_ , Shuichi supposed. Although they did seem to be affecting some people more than _others_.

_Ah-hahahaha!_

Shuichi heaved a frustrated sigh. Kokichi was honestly the _last_ person he wanted to think about right now.

And yet, like a parasite, the leader ate up at his frontal lobe, plaguing it with his malicious laughter and twisted smiles. 

_The more you suffer, the more I enjoy it._

Those words sent a chill down the detective's spine, wrapping around his brain like a crown of thorns and enshrouding it in a thick and endless fog. Shuichi felt as though his head had been plunged underwater, his body quickly following suite and sinking to the bottom of the sea. The pressure was increasing with every passing second, and soon, it'd become too overwhelming to swim against.

Too difficult to even breathe.

_Maybe I’ll go for a walk..._

Maybe that was all he needed for now -a walk, and some fresh air to de-fog his muddled brain. Maybe _that_ would help distract him from the day's proceedings and, perhaps if he was lucky, would lull him into a gentle sleep where he didn’t have to think about any of it. Not the trials, not his classmates. Not any of the problems that seemed to be increasingly piling up as the days in this wretched academy went on... 

Momentary respite -that was all he asked for. 

Rising from his bed, Shuichi dragged his ragged body out to main entrance, taking one zombie-like step after another. He was so tired that experience barely even felt real, and left him wondering how he’d even managed to make it out of his room so quickly.

The thought of locking the door hadn’t even crossed his mind when suddenly, a wave of fresh pain crashed against his brittle skull, halting his drunken steps. Shuichi grimaced, a hand flying to the source of pain and massaging it. He leaned back against the wall and cursed.  _Damn head_.

Quickly forgetting his bright idea of going outside, the detective uttered a low groan and let himself sink. At this point, becoming one with the wall didn't seem like such a half-bad option. And so, content to just exist in the entryway, Shuichi relaxed and let his pulsing mind drift aimlessly. 

Staring listlessly up at the ceiling, he, for some reason, caught himself thinking of Angie and her student council, the self-proclaimed guardians of the night. Had they not disbanded following the artist's death, they’d certainly be scolding him for lingering outside his room like this...

_Haah..._

As annoying as their rules were, Shuichi missed them. Missed their positive attitudes and unbreakable spirits. Their constant energy and _determination_ to prevent future killings, even at the expense of their own sleep.

They were twelve, back then. They still had hope –a burning dream that this killing game would end with Ryoma and Kirumi's deaths.

Now though, with Miu and Gonta gone, they were only seven. And that initial hope that this would all soon come to an end was long extinguished.

_I’m tired of this._

Shuichi hated that he was growing accustomed to it, _hated_ that he could no longer see any other end than the one Monokuma had designed for them, but it was the truth. Nine of his friends had already died, so it was useless to even  try denying it at this point. This killing game was going to keep going and going until there was no one left to cry over.  No one left at all.

Consumed by his thoughts, the detective hadn’t even noticed the front door creak open. Nor did he notice the small figure that slipped through until the leader let out a tiny squeak from right under him. 

"Ah." 

And instantly, his migraine went from bad to worse. Memories of Ouma's crazed expressions and harsher-than-life words surfaced, and stagnated the air between them, leaving nothing left to breathe but the silence. Shuichi couldn't help but stare at the leader, having not even been granted _that_ in the deep recesses of his mind. Because even though Ouma had yet to articulate a full word, Shuichi still _heard_ his deranged, psychotic laughter ringing dully in both ears. 

…He really had rotten luck. 

Thankfully, their interaction had been brief, however, it still managed to leave the detective reeling as he slammed the door and staggered over to his bed.

_Why is he like that?!_ Shuichi wondered with furrowed brows, lying flat on his back while his legs dangled off the side of his bed. _How can he just...just **smile** like we *didn't* sentence another friend to their death tonight?!_

It didn’t make sense. _Ouma_ didn't make sense.

And although it'd be bold of Shuichi to claim he ever once fully understood the leader, he thought that by now, he’d at least come to understand him a little.

It was just that-

_ "Wait! If you’re gonna punish him, then please...punish me too." _

-he'd looked so _sincere_ while crying and begging Monokuma...

_ "W-Wait, please! I don’t want this! Don’t go, Gonta!" _

And yet again, as Gonta's fate was finally sealed and the entomologist was dragged away.

But then–

_ "Ah-hahahaha! Oh man, did you fall for that fake crying?" _

–he _laughed_.

_ "Who cares about that idiot?" _

Shuichi huffed, grabbing a pillow from overhead and hugging it tightly to his chest as he curled into a little ball. To think that for a _second_ he believed that Kokichi was genuinely sad,  genuinely  _hurt_ by the outcome of this case.

…It seemed like his detective's intuition still needed some work.

Burying his face into the pillow, Shuichi muffled a heavy sigh. "I don’t understand him..." 

_At what point did the truth end and the lies begin?_

_At what point had Ouma swept them all up in his nasty little game? This **cruel** little puppet show?_

…

…

…

_ Wait- _

The thought gave the detective pause. 

"A show...huh..." 

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but Ouma was always _very_ dramatic in all of their interactions. _Excessively_ so, Shuichi thought, _constantly_ making a point of being unreasonably loud and expressive, popping all his p's and tacking on his signature laugh at the end of every other sentence... It was _almost_ as though...he wasn’t  just performing for his own amusement and that of the other students. 

_ Yes ... _

Because, for as far as Shuichi could recall, Ouma tended to speak as though whoever was physically there, in his presence, was never **truly** the only one listening.

_Not...the only one listening...?_

Interesting...

Hooked that the train of thought, Shuichi sat up and leaned against the bed's headboard, face still half-buried in the fluffy white cushion.  _That’s not the only odd thing about Ouma's behavior either..._

_ "Ugh! I’m bored now! This is the bajillionth time we tied!" _

Shuichi had rolled his eyes at the time. It was his fourth attempt at hanging out with the leader, one-on-one in a futile effort to get to know him. And although he’d always left their meetings feeling like he’d learned nothing substantial (or, barely anything at all for that matter), the detective firmly believed that he was at _least_ beginning to get a better grip on the trickster's speaking mannerisms.

Key word being  _believed_ .

_"Oh yeah, by the way..."_ Kokichi began, suddenly dropping his weight from his tiptoes to his heels. In a cat-like manner, he stretched his arms behind his back, and leaned forward, grinning up cheekily at the bewildered detective with obvious amusement sparkling in his eyes. As he rocked gently back and forth on his heels, a pinkish tint dotted his cheeks, and Shuichi soon found himself utterly transfixed by the small boy. 

Kokichi had discarded his usual theatrics, and yet, still managed to capture his attention like it was nothing with just one look. It was... _ impressive_, Shuichi had to admit.

From there, the leader never took his eyes off of the detective. He stared at the taller boy's long lashes, making sure they were focused on him and only him. 

Once satisfied, he tilted his head innocently and beamed, his smile loosening into something a little more natural than his usual mischievous grin. Shuichi's eyes were positively glued to him, curious, and searching for something he didn’t know was still far beyond his reach. 

Quietly, Kokichi whispered,  _ "Did you know there’s a way to throw the same thing on purpose in rock-paper-scissors?"_

It was something so trivial, so _seemingly_ small in the grand scheme of things, but it still managed to gnaw at the edges of Shuichi's mind.  _Why had Ouma forced a tie? And why had he pretended, up until the last second, that all their previous matches were a result of pure luck?_

"It doesn’t make sense." Shuichi whispered to himself, bringing a hand to his chin. "Everything he  _says _and everything he  _does _is contradictory."

_ "'Cause I’m a liar." _

He recalled Ouma explaining. As early as their first encounter. 

_ A liar....Hmm... _

Shuichi closed his eyes, pensive.  _What expression was he making as he said that?_

The detective couldn’t quite recall, but...perhaps that was a good place to start if he ever hoped to understand the enigma that was Kokichi Ouma. Releasing the squished pillow from his clutches, Shuichi got up and grabbed a pen and a notebook, turning on his desk lamp and pulling up a seat at the navy bureau. 

If he couldn’t sleep, might as well do something productive, right?

Opening to a fresh page, he wrote the liar's name in bold and began jotting down what he knew. 

  * _He’s the Ultimate Supreme Leader. (Claims to be "Evil" but it’s not explicitly written in the monopad's Student Profiles tab)_
  * _Despite his small stature, he’s got a big personality._
  * _He loves teasing people, especially Yumeno and Keebo._
  * _He’s, quite frankly, not very well liked. Particularly by Maki and Kaito._



_Kaito_.  Shuichi paused, stealing a glance towards his bedroom door. 

A fter his encounter with Kokichi, he'd almost forgotten about their fight, about the morbid thoughts he'd been preoccupied with just minutes earlier. 

_I really hope he's okay for now..._

The detective sighed, dropping his pen and propping up his elbows on the table. Burying his face between them, he took a moment to just stop and breathe. "What a mess..."

Between the trial, Kaito, and Kokichi, tensions were higher than ever in the group. And although Shuichi was normally pretty good at playing it cool, pretty good at maintaining his composure and being the voice of reason in such situations, under such stress, even _he'd_ managed to snap.

_ "You’re alone Kokichi. And you always will be." _

It was cold and harsh, but it was the _damn_ truth. 

Not many people were fond of the leader to begin with, and he’d just gone and discarded the last of his remaining allies with this trial. Laughing heartily at their deaths, claiming they were less than meaningless. 

Shuichi hadn’t even gotten to know Miu or Gonta all that well before they died, but even  _he _recognized that their lives had intrinsic value. And it angered him, _really_ angered him that Kokichi couldn’t see that, couldn’t see value in any _thing_ or any _one_ beyond himself and his malicious schemes. And then he had the gall to–

– _No, I shouldn’t go down that path._ Shuichi shook his head, thinking better on it.  _Because even that... may just be another lie._

Staring down at the page again, the detective retrieved his pen and began writing with renewed vigor, underlining the key points and drawing connections between his scattered thoughts. 

_He claims this is all a game. _Shuichi noted.  _But yet, seems unwilling to take action as a participant. Sure, he orchestrated Iruma's death, but that was only  after she’d stuck her own target to his back. _

_But why involve Gonta ? It’s not like he knew about his avatar's settings in the Virtual World until the moment of truth. –Was it for protection? But everyone was at the same strength...so...backup?_

_To be fair, if he had told anyone else of the situation, I doubt they would’ve cooperated. I don’t know what was in that flashback light either, but I still doubt that there'd be enough incentive for anyone else to commit a murder._

"The truth of the outside world..." Shuichi hummed thoughtfully, "inspired Gonta to commit a mercy kill."

_Mercy kill –that’s the key. Gonta was a gentle soul, so he’d have  NEVER killed someone with malicious intent. If he thought, after seeing that memory, that killing everyone left in the game was merciful, then..._

"Maybe... there’s no outside world to call home anymore." 

Shuichi was on to something, he could tell. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he turned the page and continued.

_That would explain Alter Ego Gonta's secrecy on the matter. Kokichi's as well. If they had dropped a bombshell like that on us mid-trial then maybe...maybe it really all would’ve been in vain after all. Maybe it was._

_If there’s truly nothing waiting for us once we get out of here then..._

_What the hell are we even doing?_

The world was deadly silent in that instant. _Deafeningly_ so . 

All Shuichi could do was stare at what he’d written, repeating the words over and over like a mantra to his numbing mind.

"That...can’t be right..." He frowned behind his hand, tilting his head to view the phrase from a different angle. Deep in his chest, he could hear his heart screaming out in distress at the possibility, and subconsciously moved his pen above the phrase. The longer he stared at it, the more ready he was to simply scratch it out until the paper tore, and curse his paranoid mind for always thinking of the worst-case-scenario. 

…But he couldn’t. He _couldn’t_ cross off that possibility just yet, no matter how much he wanted to. 

"...Is this how they both felt?" The detective wondered, setting down his pen and half-consciously running his index finger along the bumps in the paper.  _No wonder he..._

Shuichi flipped the page back to his original list and circled a passage he’d written in the margin beside his second point.

_Coping mechanism?_

_Maybe his lies are to him like Atua was to Angie. A way of feeling grounded, and in control of the situation. Kokichi's small, and I doubt he could take many people in fight (something we unfortunately both have in common) so perhaps his obnoxious personality is a way to make himself seem bigger and less vulnerable._

"And it’s been effective to a degree, I suppose." The detective considered, leaning back in the chair and tapping the back of the pen to his lower lip. "People certainly _are_ scared of him, especially after tonight." 

He _did_ orchestrate  a murder, after all.

"But more than that," Shuichi hummed, recalling Maki's pointed glare as the leader left the room. Caught up in his own frustration, he didn’t think much of it at the time, but that look...that  _raw_ , concentrated hatred that colored her ruby eyes...it was dangerous. "I think...he’s just painted a bigger target on his back." 

Doodling a target next to those words, Shuichi imagined the two running around the dining hall. Maki, with a freshly sharpened kitchen knife in her hand and Kokichi with a pocket full of all kinds of surprise traps. Were the situation not so plausible, it’d almost be comedic, Shuichi mused.

For the third time, he set his pen down, picking up the notebook to admire his handiwork. The pages were an utter mess, but it was progress. 

– _Assuming anything I’m thinking is right, anyway._

Shuichi was still only an  apprentice detective, after all. Not quite at the point where he could believe he’d struck gold with every assumption just yet. 

_But still, if any of this turns out to be even *remotely* true then..._

"Then the way I’ve been thinking about Kokichi this whole time...it's been all  _wrong_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! …Okay, I'm a few hours late, but close enough lol
> 
> And thus we begin to fix the absolute bs that was the entirety of NDRV3 Chapter 5. Seriously, I love Shuichi but the writers really gave him a negative amount of brain cells in that chapter（−＿−；）
> 
> Also, I just thought it’d be neat if Shuichi used his detective talent outside of the trials, like he did in Chapter 1 with the cameras in the library. I honestly feel like *that* could’ve saved them all a lot of grief in canon, but... I digress.
> 
> The whole reason I decided to write this fic to begin with was because I felt that both Shuichi and Kokichi deserved so much better than what they got in canon. I wanted to remedy that, and well, this is the result!
> 
> I sincerely hope that this chapter was as satisfying to read as it was for me to write! Soon, Kokichi’ll *finally* get the recognition and comfort he deserves...buuuut not just yet! (Or is that MY lie? Heheh... Tune in next week to find out!) 
> 
> Finally, I once again thank you all for every kudos and comment. Your support really gives me courage and confidence when I’m feeling down. 
> 
> As always, I’m active on Instagram (@sparklingfandomrainbow) and Twitter (@fandomrainbow) if anyone ever wants to chat!
> 
> Until next week ^^


	4. In the Confines of the Dressing Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, death, nightmares...it was all just part of the game, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a *little* heavier than the last few, so prepare yourselves fellas. 
> 
> TWs: Emetophobia, Intrusive thoughts/Mental deterioration, Lots of general stress and distress (throughout the entire chapter)

Kokichi had never meant to fall asleep on the floor. 

He’d never meant to dream about Iruma or Gokuhara either. 

…Well, calling it a  _dream _would be putting it nicely.

"Where...am I?" The leader asked, slowly beginning to process his surroundings.

_White walls..._

_White ceilings..._

_White floors..._

Hell, even his _breath_ was currently evaporating into long, swirly white wisps, tickling his nose in the frigid air. 

A sneeze soon erupted from his tiny frame, and along with it, came a violent shiver. It shot up his hunched spine, involuntarily straightening it for a half-second, before, once again, allowing his shoulders to relax. What resulted from this was something of a shuddered whimper from the leader's frostbitten lips, accompanied by a wave of self-pity when he quickly realized there wasn't a jacket or even a measly thin blanket to embrace him in sight. 

Sighing, he simply hugged his arms tighter to his chest, and groaned. 

_Dammit, it’s cold._

Kokichi cursed the way his entire body shook with every stiff step forward. And were his mind capable of processing any other thoughts at the moment, he’d have surely realized this wasn't normal.

_Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold._

Frost had wrapped itself around the ends of his violet locks, darkening them a few shades until they appeared as black as the checkered squares on his favorite scarf. ~~As dark as Miu's favorite pair of black boots.~~

_What is this place?_

The questioned floated and lingered in Kokichi's mind as he breathed in the vastness of the empty building -an abandoned sanatorium by the looks of it. At least, that's what was carved into the eroded cream-colored stone near the entrance. (Or was that the exit?) Either way, it did nothing to assuage the immediate eeriness he'd felt upon entry. 

Stopping in his tracks, the leader puffed out a cloud of white that blended in perfectly with the walls. 

_I don’t remember there being a place like this anywhere in the school._

The contrast between this frozen hell and the lush green one he pattered around for the past two weeks was like night and day. And although both of them seemed to be draining more and more of his life force with every second he spent idle, at least _this_ _place_ had the decency not to lie to him with a pretty exterior. Instead, it presented itself for what it really was: a broken facility once meant to serve broken minds and bodies, long weathered until all that was left was shattered pillars to hold it up and cracks in the walls where pictures and paintings and signs of _life_ used to hang. 

**_Life_**. 

There wasn't much of that left at the Ultimate Academy now, was there? 

~~And part of that was his fault.~~

Looking around, Kokichi spotted two half-broken doors revealing seemingly endless black hallways both to his left and to his right. But what was _particularly_ intriguing was the descending staircase at the back.

It was a peculiar existence -not so long that he couldn't see the bottom, yet steep enough that one wrong step would easily result in dire, perhaps even fatal, consequences. In addition to the strange optical illusion it presented, it also seemed to be the only thing unworn by the hands of time, appearing as fresh and sturdy as the day it was first built.

Kokichi inhaled a shuddered breath. _Here goes nothing, I suppose._

A feeling he couldn't quite explain had, not long since his discovery, swelled in his chest and urged him to press forward. 

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained._

But upon taking that first step, there was a sudden shift in scenery, as the white ceramic beneath his feet morphed into something much more appropriate and in-line with the general state of the building. 

_What's going on here?_

The overwhelming cold was _surely_ messing with his mind.

This, however, didn't change his initial feeling; he _needed_ to move forward. _Needed_ to know what was down there, lurking...waiting...

**Drawing** him to a place that only screamed _danger_. 

So, he took another step. 

And another.

And a few more, until he finally found a comfortable rhythm. 

And, as he dragged his numbingly cold limbs down the stairs, Kokichi learned to hate the sound of his own footsteps. 

Every creak of the rotting wooden floorboards reminded him of the god-awful third trial, and of the mild injury he’d sustained during its investigation. Even now, he could still feel it's lingering after-effects, pulsing absolutely _charmingly_ at the forefront of his skull.

_~~It hurts.~~ _But it didn't really bother him.

_Finally_ , he reached the bottom of the steps, or rather, the foot of his last obstacle: a lone, tall white door that stood out like a beacon of light in the surrounding darkness. That nagging feeling that had urged him forward was now stronger than ever, and yet, Kokichi couldn't help but hesitate.

He noticed that unlike the two doors on the first floor, this one was oddly still **intact**. And also, that unlike the two doors on the first floor... _this one_ sported numerous **scratch marks** and ominous **blood stains**. 

_I’ve got a bad feeling about this._

It didn't take a genius to understand the many warning signs the place had so generously laid out for him. 

_Cold._

_Quiet._

_Broken._

_**Blood**._

There could only be **one thing** waiting on the other side of that door for him...

Still, it wasn’t like there was anywhere left to go, or anything else to see in the confines of these narrowing white walls. At any rate, he was too tired and cold to go back and check anyway.

The only way to go...was forward.

So he placed a shaky hand on the doorknob, and pressed on.

The door creaked open, its immediate squeaking telling of its years of its disuse. Loud and grating, the noise it made resounded in stark contrast to the dead silence that oppressed the rest of the building. 

A cold gust suddenly blew past, making every last one of Kokichi's hairs stand on end, _begging_ for warmth, as yet another violent shiver wracked his body. He sneezed, once again, unable to resist the touch of dust that puffed with the abrupt movement, and gave the door its final push, revealing a square room surrounded by.... _freezers?_

_What the–_

For a brief moment, Kokichi stood there confused. _Why freez–_

And then, it hit him. 

An overwhelmingly powerful stench, leaking from the largest freezer at the back. He’d noticed, unlike the others, that it’s little blue light had burnt out and, based on the smell, could only _guess_ at what was slowly rotting away in there. 

_…_

Pulling his scarf above his nose, Kokichi began to approach it with caution. 

One step...two steps...

And truth be told, he knew  _exactly _what this place was –he’d known since before he’d even opened the door.

Three steps...four...

And as that putrid smell grew stronger with each foot forward, the wall of denial that had been fortified in his mind began to crumble.

Five steps...six...

It wasn't much farther now. Maybe a step, or two, at most.

_ Shit. _

The leader coughed into his scarf, choking back a gag as the overwhelming stench dulled all of his other senses. Dizzily, he placed a hand on the lukewarm door and breathed slow. 

How had he done it in the past? How was it that he ever managed to ignore this familiar scent of sluggish decay? 

…How did the rest of _them_ do it?

Feeling an intense a wave of nausea wash over him, Kokichi swallowed hard.

_ Had it always been so difficult to hold his dinner? _

The freezer didn't answer. 

It wasn't long after when Kokichi regained his composure, squeezing one hand tighter than ever around his mouth and nose while the other wrapped loosely around the freezer's handle. 

Closing his eyes, he imagined a pile of rotting steaks on the other side and not... _never mind_. 

He held his breath.

_Here goes._

And pulled the handle. 

For a brief second -an eternal, _deluded_ second, he believed it to be true. That the sanatorium's massive fridge was, in fact, just a storeroom connected to the kitchen. Or, even better yet, to the back of a secret ice cream parlor, where buckets upon _buckets_ of that fresh frozen goodness was stored, just waiting to be opened and devoured. 

But alas, that eternal second only really lasted about that long –a second, and when Kokichi opened his eyes once more, reality, as harsh and cruel as ever, was there to eagerly welcome him back. 

It bore its fangs in the form of two familiar corpses rotting side by side, propped up against one another back-to-back. To the left was the girl, face twisted in raw agony that betrayed her natural true beauty. And to the right slumped the boy, face swollen beyond recognition as he exhibited the fatal gaping hole passing through his stomach.

The leader jumped instinctively and stepped back a few paces, quickly raising _both_ hands to cover his nose and mouth. If he thought the smell was bad _before_ , it was at least ten times worse now, with the bodies out in the open. 

Taking in a shallow breath, Ouma blinked back the unwanted tears that stung his eyes -an unfortunate result of the toxic gas that was beginning to permeate his skin and crawl the length of his slender form. 

"Y-Yup," he muttered to himself aloud, teeth still chattering away with the dreadful cold, "d-definitely a m-morgue."

_**Thump**. _

He flinched at the surprising volume of the sound. 

And when Kokichi looked back at the two lifeless bodies, he remarked that one was suddenly missing its head.

" _Kokichi._ "

"!"

Like a clap of thunder on a stormy night, her voice shook him.

It drowned out all of the useless ambient noise, including that which cluttered his mind, and for a moment, just simply... _existed._

_…_

A gentle pressure then began to gradually sink into his feet.

_…Huh?_

Without thinking, Kokichi looked down.

_ Oh. _

_That’s_ why the voice had sounded so close.

_"_ _Why did you **kill** me, Kokichi?" _Iruma's severed head spoke, its voice strained as though it were still in the process of being strangled out of her. _"Fucking_ _**why**?"_

It took him a second to process, locked onto her bulging baby blue eyes. And, if Saihara hadn't already taught him the _true_ meaning of the word earlier, he'd have certainly named that emotion _hatred_. 

_Sigh._

This *really* was inevitable, huh?

~~_Of course it wasn’t. This is **your** fault._ ~~

_Shut up._

He silenced his inner debate.

"Y-You tried to kill me f-first!" 

No, it wasn't **him** who was the one to blame. It was _her_ who had started this, re-programming his avatar and inviting him up to that roof. It was _she_ who had decided to throw her dart at his portrait, or rather, her _hammer_.

It wasn't _his_ fault that she'd chosen the wrong target, and was unable to follow through.

It wasn't _his_ fault, either, that he had.

_~~ Then who's fault was it, now? ~~ _

_"I had no choice! _ _"_ The head screeched, frustrated tears turning to ice slides along her pale cheeks as it gasped desperately for air. _"_ _ The outside world needed me. You fuckin' saw it!" _

Kokichi tensed. _The outside world_...yes, indeed, he _**had** _seen it -a world absolutely ravaged by devastation, vividly painted in orange, yellow and red hues. A world that was _desperately_ in need of someone like her, who had the potential to start again, and re-build it from scratch...

" _But_ _the o-outside w-world needs m-more than just an ugly sow._ " 

He recalled a time when ~~mom~~ Kirumi had used the same argument. How she _needed_ to get out to save her country, how twelve measly little lives were _nothing_ in comparison to the millions she'd be saving. The millions she _supposedly_ had no idea yet, were already dead.

…What _bullshit_. 

And yet, they called _him_ the master manipulator of the group.

_"Then why did you come to the roof?" _

_Ah_ , he'd been waiting on that one.

_**Why** go up to the roof?_

_**Why** bother doing anything at all?_

The truth was...Kokichi didn't know.

_~~You were scared.~~ _

All he knew was that she was threatening the group's peace.

~~_You were paranoid that she'd try again and succeed._ ~~

And he couldn't allow that.

_" **Why** , Kokichi?!"_ A firm hand gripped his shoulder from behind, startling him anew.

In a swift motion, it spun him around to face the man who’d been his last ally. His only real friend in this place, ugly-crying despite his (now) severely swollen face. " _Why_ _Kokichi **betray** Gonta?" _

"..."

Any words Kokichi could think to reply quickly died in throat. 

And as the larger teen's hand squeezed his shoulder tighter, re-molding the muscle and shattering the bone, he found himself unable to do a thing. 

_"Please answer Gonta."_

The gentle giant pleaded through sobs, shaking like a scolded child. 

_"Please, Kokichi."_

"I... I d-didn’t betray you G-Gonta! I–" The boy began, accidentally biting his tongue mid-sentence.

_~~ Yes, you did. ~~ _

_ Shut up. _

"It... It’s not  m-my fault that the p-plan failed!"

_~~Ahahahaha.~~ _

_Shut up!_

It wasn't like he _wanted_ Gonta dead! It was...it was _Miu's_ fault! _She_ was the one who'd changed his avatar's setting so that he couldn't kill her himself. It was _her_ fault that he had to ask for help, had to **involve** someone who was, who had _become_ important to him. Because of that worthless _,_ idiotic _bitchlet_ , he-

_"Gonta **not** **stupid** , Kokichi!" _ Gokuhara suddenly yelled, silencing his useless drivel. The entomologist then proceeded to step back, retracting his once firm and comforting hand to wipe away tears. 

"G-Gon-"

_"Kokichi's _ _plan succeed."_ He said with miserable finality, voice barely above a whisper. _"_ _Kokichi planned to betray Gonta from start."_

…

Like bitter medicine, Kokichi swallowed those words. 

"Th...That’s not–"

_"Kokichi a **bad** person._" 

The leader blinked, staring blankly at the devastated expression being directed back at him.

_~~ Stop. Don't look at me like that. I'm- ~~ _

"N-no, I’m just trying to –"

_"What? End this fucking killing game?"_ Iruma's strained voice scoffed. _"We've heard *that* one before. It doesn’t change the fact that you still ** killed **us." _ The Ultimate Inventor huffed, then sucked in a shallow breath. _"You're a **shitty** person, Kokichi."_

"..."

Despite the wicked cold, the shorter boy abruptly stopped trembling.

Removing his hands from his mouth, he allowed them to fall limply to his sides and crash loosely against his sturdy waist. 

_What is this...?_

He stared at the duo, one burning with acrimony, the other with anguish. 

_Why...do they keep looking at me like that?_

~~_Disgusting. Vile. Depraved. Scum of the earth._ ~~

_**Evil**._

Wait...is _that_ what they were expecting? 

…

"Haha.." The leader giggled to himself, feeling the intense stares of his victims cut through his frozen body like butter. "Hahaha...."

_Of course. _

Closing his eyes, he craned his neck back and allowed his shoulders to bounce higher and higher with every laugh. _Higher_ , with every chuckle, every breath —every ugly _, raw_ emotion he’d buried deep within. "AH-HAHAHAHA! Man, you guys are  hilarious!"

_ This... This was just another joke, right...? _

Clutching his stomach, Kokichi doubled over with laughter, letting himself get utterly consumed by the absurdity of it all. "But. But this is  _too_ much!" He wheezed, forgetting to breathe. "I –I’m gonna puke!"

That's when he realized –the sensation that was coursing through his veins wasn’t, in fact, _numbness_...

It was the cold embrace of **death** itself. 

"..." 

All at once, Kokichi stopped laughing. 

In spite of all the lies he’d been spewing with each breath, he really *did* feel sick to his stomach. The smell of Iruma and Gokuhara's rotting flesh was _really_ starting to get to him and–

Kokichi's eyes shot open. 

Covering his mouth, he scrambled to his feet and burst through the bathroom door to cough up the last of his nerves. 

_Shit-_

And as he did, while gripping at the pristine porcelain bowl with all his might, memories of that afternoon raced dizzily throughout his mind. They bounced from hemisphere to hemisphere, aggravating his old injury and inciting his heart to join his stomach in the flip routine it had going on.

…

Meanwhile, in contrast to the excruciating cold he'd felt from within his dream, his skin now flared with an intense, scorching _heat_.

…

Droplets of sweat rolled down the leader's forehead to his cheeks, catching on strands of hair and wetting them along with his lashes.

He blinked them back, still barely capable of finding his breath.

…

Inhaling sharply, he slowly found reality again.

Hazy shapes became solid objects.

Tilted ceilings straightened up. 

The walls stopped contracting, and finally, _finally_ , so did Kokichi's chest.

"Whew."

The leader breathed, easing up his death grip and wiping away the sweat from his brow. In a sluggish movement, he slid cautiously back and settled semi-calmly on the backs of his heels.

_ Just a nightmare.  _

Closing his eyes, Kokichi grounded himself in place, loosely clenching and unclenching his fists.

_ You're in your room. It's okay._

And slowly but surely, his heart began to settle. 

_ You’re okay. _

But in spite of his best attempts, there was still _someone_ he had yet to convince.

_"…_ _Okay ? Woooow."_

His worst enemy drawled, rolling his eyes as he kicked his legs and inspected his perfectly polished nails with the utmost boredom. He never did look down from his place on the counter, nor even pause for a second, as he voiced his disappointment.

_ "What a pathetic **lie**." _

Curling his fingers, Kokichi dug his nails into his upper thighs. 

_I'm okay._

_Blood, death, nightmares_...it was all just part of the **game** , right?

All just part of the fun...

"..."

_"I want you students with your Ultimate–level talents to participate in a killing game."_

All just part of one big, sick _joke_.

…

Sighing, the leader raised a hand to the counter and staggered to his feet.

_"Thrills, chills, kills!"_

That's all this was. Nothing more, and nothing less than a competition. 

One that he'd already decided he'd **win**.

Knees still a little wobbly, he supported his weight on the counter and positioned himself in front of the sink.

_"Is winning really worth that much?"_

Opening the tap, he watched as fresh, cool water rushed and crashed against the porcelain, already soothing his warm skin before even getting the chance to touch it.

_"Is it really worth abandoning your morals, abandoning your **life**?"_

Splashing his face, he breathed a sigh of relief.

_"Y'know, you can't ignore the truth forever."_ His reflection stared, watching his makeup dissolve into nothing, down the abyss of the drain. _"You say all these grandiose things about usurping the mastermind and saving them all. Making plans to kill yourself behind their backs while letting them believe you're as carefree as ever."_

Careening his head to the left, he noticed the bruise blooming in all of its glory on his right cheek. Touching it gingerly, he couldn't help but clench his teeth, and exhale steadily. _Fucking Momota._

_"They won't care when you die, you know."_

Kokichi paused, letting any remaining water he'd scooped up slip through his fingers. He stared back at his reflection, neutral.

_That's *not* why I'm doing this._

_"That's a lie."_ It challenged. _"You're a performer at heart, Kokichi. Everyone knows you **live** for the attention. Even your precious detective."_

_Don't bring Shuichi into this._

_"Maybe before tonight, it would've still been possible."_ It hummed, tilting its head playfully. _"He really *did* seem to be warming up to you towards the end..."_

_Stop it._

_"But you've got blood on your hands now."_

Placing an icy hand on his shoulder, it pouted mockingly. 

_"What a shame."_

Squeezing his eyes shut, the leader shook his head. He was done listening to this garbage.

_"Actually, speaking of shame, I wonder what DICE would think of your latest little scheme?"_

Closing the tap, he kept his gaze down and grabbed at the little towel hanging off to the side. 

_"I bet they'd be really disappointed to see just how far their dear 'leader' has fallen."_

At this, Kokichi rolled his eyes.

Despite that stupid video he’d been given, he knew DICE would be just fine. They were smart, and driven and so unbelievably  _capable_. 

In truth, he knew they’d never really needed a leader.  _Especially_ not one who violated his own goddamn golden rule. 

Maybe... maybe they would even be better off _without_ him. 

_"I'm sure that Hearts would weep. Poor girl's always been the sentimental type."_

Setting the towel down, he reached back and untied his scarf, revealing two additional bruises in the shape of Harukawa's hands circling around his neck.

_"Hey! Who do you think they'll replace you with? If they haven't already, that is."_

Poking at them, Kokichi practiced his smile. 

_It doesn’t hurt._

At least, that's what he told himself as he glued any and all cracks in his mask back together. 

_ "Geez, would you give that a rest already? I'm only kidding around!"  _

But the soon-to be-ex-leader of DICE only pressed down harder, and grinned.

_"Hey..."_

_What? Can't you see that I'm **busy**?_

The reflection opened it's mouth to say something, but stopped. 

Kokichi watched as its face changed several times over the course of a few seconds, as though pensive, searching for something just beyond its grasp. 

Finally, with drooping shoulders, it sighed, and suddenly, looked a _lot_ more like him then ever before. 

_"Aren't you tired?"_

The boy grimaced.

_Of course I am._

_"Then stop this."_

…

_I can't._

He'd come too _far_ to just throw it all away.

Revealing his hand now would just be _stupid_.

_"Even after all these years...you're still a liar down to your core, huh?"_

Kokichi didn't respond.

_"Or rather, you've been spinning lies for so long that you've forgotten what it means to tell the truth."_

…

_ "It's funny really. Didn't you start all of this because you were scared of being pushed aside and eventually, forgotten?" _

_…_

_ "Scared of dying without ever getting the chance to leave your mark on the world? Isn't **that** why you first took the stage?" _

_I don't remember._

_"Of course you don't."_ The reflection shrugged. _"It's been so long since the lines between fiction and truth blurred; I'm not surprised."_

_Right_. It hadn't **always** been like this...

…But at what point had those lines blurred?

_"Oh singer X?"_ He’d chirped that time, when Ace had accidentally ripped their earbuds out while walking by. _"I just_ _ looove _ _their new song!"_

Ace had blushed and nodded faintly at that, ever the shy one of the group. Meanwhile, Kokichi had simply grinned. But inside, the leader couldn’t help but wonder...

Did he _really_ like that song? Or did he just _think_ he did?

_"Ugh, gross!! I hate horrific stuff like that, Spades!"_

On another occasion, he banged softly at his subordinate's chest, sticking his tongue out in mock-disgust as the man continued telling him of the horrific injuries he’d treated in his day job as an ER nurse. _"...But that’s a lie."_

The leader grinned a beat later, earning an eye roll and fond chuckle from the blond. All the while his heart raced, questioning if that was really the truth.

And the fact was that Kokichi could no longer tell. 

It had been so long since he was honest with  _himself_ , let alone anybody else. 

_"That's why you like **him** , right?"_

_…_

_"Kind... Gentle... **Honest**. He's everything you'll never be." _

Dropping any last traces of a smile, he shifted uncomfortably in place. _And?_

_"It really is a shame."_ The reflection lamented. _"You'll die and he won’t ever know about any of this. As quickly as he knew you, he'll come to forget you. Well, so long as nobody **kills** him first."_

_Stop._

_"He'll get out of here and eventually begin fresh somewhere. Grow up and meet someone, start a family. And you'll be long gone from his mind."_

_Shut up._

_"And the few times he *does* accidentally manage to think about you, *this* is what he'll remember."_

_SH-_

_"He won’t remember you as Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader; the boy who tried his best to end this godforsaken game. No, surely he'll remember you as–"_

" ** _Shut the fuck up._** "

_"–Kokichi Ouma, the filthy fucking liar."_

What happened next became a gap in Kokichi's memory. 

When he finally came to, the mirror in front of him was shattered, and his left fist was bleeding something fierce. But the room was quiet, unbelievably, _beautifully_ quiet (at least, except for the dripping faucet and the low buzzing in his ears). 

Wait _...buzzing?_

It was barely audible, but if the leader strained juuust hard enough, he could hear the faint buzzing of  _something_ in either ear.

_Right_.  He remembered (how could he forget?), and quickly dug out the small pink object he’d earlier pocketed from Iruma's lab. 

Feigning disinterest, he spun it around in his right hand, processing all of its subtle bumps and curves for a few rounds. 

_Ah_. 

-Until he found _just_ what he was looking for.

Kokichi smirked. 

"It seems I’ve given you all quite the show tonight, haven’t I?" The liar spoke aloud to no one in particular. He leaned back on the bathroom counter, propping himself up by his elbows, and stared directly into the painted eyes of the bomb's mascot. "I do _sincerely_ hope you enjoyed!"

As one final display, he tossed the bomb up and caught it between three fingers. "But unfortunately for  _you_ , the show's over now." 

Standing up straight, he plucked out the safety pin with his index finger. And, after _generously_ providing his audience with one last shit-eating grin, curled two fingers around the detonation lever. Finally, spitting all the venom he could muster, he made sure to clearly articulate his closing words: "So get lost, you _sick_ shits!"

Dropping the bomb, he felt his knees buckle beneath him, finally giving way to all the stress of the night. 

But to his delight, the buzzing ceased, leaving only the comforting silence to surround him. 

Heaving a much-needed sigh of relief, the leader allowed himself to cast a glance down at his bloody hand. "Now that that’s taken care of..." 

Kokichi moved to collect the first-aid kit from the wall and began plucking out shards of broken glass from between his knuckles. With nobody watching him anymore, he no longer felt the need to stifle his yelps, and wound up crying a whole string of colorful words at the end of the ten minutes it had taken him. 

"Argh!!" The leader yowled, tears springing to his eyes as he doused the hand in rubbing alcohol, using an absolutely stupid amount of cotton pads to absorb the blood. Then, ripping a piece of gauze with his teeth, Kokichi clumsily wrapped up his hand. It was a shoddy job at best, but good enough for the time being, he deemed. All he needed was something to tape down the ends with .

Reaching into the kit, he grabbed a pair of adhesive bandages. 

"..." 

_ "Okay, I think that’s good. What do you think?" _

A pair of beautiful golden-gray eyes looked up to meet his violet ones. 

"Yeah." Kokichi had replied a little breathlessly, cursing at the heat he could already feel rising in his cheeks. Shuichi still had yet to let go of his hand. "It wasn’t a deep cut, so that'll do." He quickly followed up. "Thanks for treating my injury, Shuichi."

Why did he care so much? 

It was just a cut.

Just a small, _stupid_ nick he’d made on his left ring finger whilst getting distracted by the detective's scent. 

So why...why was he so _concerned_?

As soon as he’d suggested they play the knife game, the leader watched and counted the worry lines that surfaced on his favorite's face, ingraining them thoroughly into his memory. What he  _hadn’t_ expected was for Shuichi to get so close to him as he brandished the knife, trying his best to show off. Still, he continued chopping with fluidity and ease, smiling nonchalantly at his beloved's stressed remarks until–

"Ouch!" 

–he’d accidentally cut his left ring finger.

And Shuichi, having already worked himself into quite a tizzy, immediately rushed for the first-aid kit and soon after, began patching him up. 

It was in  that moment, Kokichi thought to himself, that he’d realized just how badly he’d fallen for the detective.

As Shuichi gently grabbed his wrist, the small leader felt the tips of his ears heat up and began to laugh. "Nee-heehee...haha!"

It had been ages since he’d last laughed with all his heart like that, simply elated to be alive. 

Simply _happy_ to be in the moment.

_His serious face is so cute._ He remembered thinking, as Shuichi concentrated on disinfecting his cut. The detective's long lashes were indeed much prettier up close.

_ "What do you think?" _

Kokichi blinked, finding a shy grin pulling at the detective's lips. 

Inspecting his beloved's handiwork, he couldn’t help but imagine a golden band around his finger in place of the bandage. But not that classical gold color, no –it’d be something more subdued, like the color of the detective's eyes. That way, every time he’d look at it, he’d be reminded that they're owner really belonged to him.

"Aw maaaan, I lost!" The smaller male pouted childishly, then, not a second, later broke out into a big smile. "Congrats, Shuichi! You win!"

"But I didn’t do it yet..." The detective stared at him, the naïve disbelief apparent on his perfect features. "I’m still the winner?"

_Of course you are, stupidhead!_ Kokichi thought, hoping that Shuichi wasn’t really paying any mind to his progressively flushing cheeks.  _You already won a long time ago._

"Now, you’ll never *ever* forget me for the rest of your life." He beamed, lightly running his fingers along the bandaged cut. "I stole your heart, so now I’m satisfied!"

…

That was only _three_ days ago, but it already felt like an eternity had passed. 

_You’re alone, Kokichi. And you always will be._

…

Looking at his freshly-bandaged hand illuminated by the crappy bathroom light, the leader sighed.

_I wish I’d never gotten to know him._

Kokichi remained like that for a little while, resting peacefully on the cool bathroom tile flooring. And in that time he spent regaining his energy, he kept his mind busy by focusing on the killing game and what to do next.

_I still need to finish that script_.  He thought of the red notebook waiting for him, buried under a hoard of drawings and other blueprints. The next plan was already close to completion, especially now that he’d gotten his hands on Iruma's inventions, but there were still a few more variables he needed to account for. Namely, the location of the next murder –the  **last **murder. He hoped. … _I should wait until the band of idiots unlocks the new area tomorrow. But for now, at least, I should update the whiteboard._

Getting back on a pair of slightly more stable feet, Kokichi closed the bathroom light and dragged himself over the board of suspects, feeling oddly calm and focused. He moved Iruma and Gokuhara's pictures first, drawing a neat little arrow between them like he’d done with all the other prior cases. And just underneath it, he drew a small roll of toilet paper representing the cause of death. 

"..." The nightmare from earlier flashed through his head.

_ "Kokichi a bad person."  _

_"You're a shitty person, Kokichi."_

_I know_. The leader closed his eyes and quietly accepted it.  _And I’m sorry, Gonta, for betraying you like that. You too, Miu. Even though your dumb whore pig ass tried to kill me first._

In the dead silence, he let out a small chuckle. 

-That chuckle, however, was just as quickly smothered by the sound of loud banging on the leader’s door.

_What the fuck?_

Kokichi froze. He hadn’t anticipated  this.

It was the night after a trial for fuck's sake, wasn’t everyone tired??

Well, maybe there was  _one_ person who wasn’t, but he thought that surely, she’d be occupied taking care of her sick little astroboyfriend for the time being. 

_Is she *really* here to kill me?_

His heart was racing, but his feet remained rooted in place. Kokichi  _hadn’t_ prepared to die tonight. Sometime in the near future, yes, but  _not_ tonight.

And yet, here was Miss Assassin trying to break down his door in the middle of night and destroy everything. 

_Dammit, I think I went a little too far back there, by the looks of it!_

Kokichi had braced himself for the imminent destruction of the only barrier standing between himself and certain death when–

"U-Um...Ouma? Can we talk?"

–he heard  _his_ voice behind the door.

"Sai...hara?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Kokichi told Kaito in canon that the whole reason he got by was because he lied to himself? Yeah, this whole chapter was pretty much based around that. 
> 
> I feel like Kokichi may have had some bad intrusive thoughts during canon, and that the only way he kept his head up was by constantly distracting himself with working on plans or teasing the other students. 
> 
> But, well, nobody can distract themselves forever. And if Kokichi were to ever fully breakdown, I really believe it'd be at the end of chapter 4. The stress of almost getting killed + the guilt of killing two people + your crush telling you to go eff yourself and that you'll forever be alone = horrific mental state. 
> 
> I just hope that I was able to convey that properly, and by that, I mean Kokichi teetering between "Everything is Fine ;D" and "Holy shit, nothing’s fine. Everything's a mess. Oh my god, what have I done?" (He’s doing his best, ok?)
> 
> Anyways, as always, thanks for reading, commenting and leaving kudos! I really appreciate it all ^///^
> 
> Oh! Also, I wanted to mention that I updated the description. I got rid of my upload schedule because its been a month and only once have I actually managed to update on a Monday soooo updates from now on will be whenever I have time during the week (which is basically how its been going so far anyways haha). Sorry about that!
> 
> Come say hi on Instagram (@sparklingfandomrainbow) or on Twitter (@fandomrainbow) if you like! My DMs are always open!
> 
> Until next time ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers of AO3 and welcome to my little fic! Well, I say 'little', but I've already finished writing it and though I don’t know how many chapters I’ll separate it into, there's about 28K words left to go. Haha...
> 
> Anyways, it’s my first time posting on AO3 and admittedly, I've been very nervous to share this. So, erm, please go easy on me as I figure out how to tag and format properly ^^’
> 
> Lastly, I’d like to say that I'll put more specific warnings in the beginning notes for more triggering chapters, but please do mind the tags. They're there for a reason!
> 
> If anyone ever wants to chat, you can find me on Instagram (@sparklingfandomrainbow) or on Twitter (@fandomrainbow) ^^


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